The Final Countdown
by I Am Blind Justice
Summary: Bruce Banner didn't expect to meet an Englishman in Brazil talking to a 8 foot python. Nor did Harry Potter ever expect to meet an angry giant rage monster. And neither of them expected to be saving the world as the Hulk or a giant black magical panther. Some may call it fate and others destiny. But they just call each other, friends. Updates on Wednesdays and Saturdays!
1. The Game Is On

Chapter 1-The Game is On

When all was said and done, it was still murder. But who wanted to defend a tyrant? Politics apparently. Despite being an evil overlord-dictator-psycho, Ol' Voldy was sort of still allowed basic human rights and the fact there were a heap-load of Unforgivables cast that night didn't hurt. So here he was, sitting in a room surrounded by people from all sides staring down, casting their most non-intimidating glares. It felt very reminiscent of fifth year, far too much to be comfortable.

"It is only due to your tremendous aid, Mister Potter that we are only withdrawing your wand for the time being. The court has adhered to three months wandlessness, and until then you will be allowed one magical action before your sentence is invoked. Do you understand Mr Potter?" The faceless judge wheezed as he declared his sentence.

Mr Potter looked up, straight into the judge's eyes, smirking as he saw him flinch. He then looked back down to his hands in his lap. Mr Potter reached up and pinched the arm of his glasses. Pulling them off, he examined them slowly. With painstakingly low speed, he took the edge of his shirt and proceeded to clean his lenses. After seeming satisfied, he ducked his head, replacing the glasses onto the bridge of his nose. The silence rang throughout the chamber. A spluttering chough interrupted the silence doing absolutely nothing to help the tension.

"I-I repeat, Mr Potter. Do you understand?" The councilman stuttered feebly in an attempt of intimidation.

Shocking green eyes met dull brown.

Penetrating.

Piercing and absolutely lethal.

It was the eyes of a Predator.

"I understand councilman." Mr Potter steeped his hands beneath his chin.

"I understand the need for bureaucracy and mindless politics." His fingers curled one by one until they met the back of his hand.

"And frankly I am quite sick of it." His tone darkened as poisonous eyes bore into the shivering councilman.

"We have just finished a war. The last thing people need to know is that their Saviour," at this he scoffed, "is being rendered wandless despite the three months and the fact that I have just murdered one of the most dangerous Dark Lords of I suggest you know where you step with this. And I hope you know what you are doing. For if you don't..."

The corners of his lips curled up into a smile. "Well you might just witness the taste of anarchy after all."

His voice nary a whisper as the silent hall echoed with his warning.

"Is that a threat?!" exclaimed a councilwoman from behind him.

Mr Potter raised his eyebrow in amusement.

"Say councilwoman, what is your name?" He closed his eyes and leaned back into the metal chair, his hands settling in his lap.

"Paisley. Tatiana Paisley." She replied, her confused tone audible at his request.

"And do you know," he called out, his voice ringing with irritation.

"What it feels like to have Every. Single. Person. You know and trust to turn their back on you? Do you know the feeling of utter powerlessness knowing that it was because of your own foolish actions that led all of them to betrayal?" Mr Potter laughed bitterly.

"Well councilwoman? Do you?" His eyes snapped open, he quickly sat up as an inaudible growl curled at the end of his question.

Said woman squeaked as she shrunk back into her chair.

"I thought not." He ground out.

Clearing his face of all emotion he looked back to the head councilman, an obviously fake smile pasted onto his lips.

"Ready when you are Mr Councilman." The man was now shaking like a leaf in the wind, sweat dripping down his tubby neck and balding forehead onto the collar of his swollen robes.

Nodding quickly he motioned to the two heavy set wizards on either side of Mr Potter.

"Y-y-you will c-confiscate your w-wand to the wizard to your right. It will then be handed over to M-Mr Sool behind him for affirmation. T-then m-myself and the wizard on your left will a-accompany you to your chosen d-destination to complete your f-final magical action before your probation. You will t-then be sworn to abstain from the use of m-magic until the end of the allotted time. D-do you understand Mr Potter?" The quivering mess of a man fumbled as he tried to make eye contact.

"I understand." He exhaled his deep breath and the councilman nodded to the personnel below.

"Let it be written. Let it be done." At those words he stood up and straightened his robes.

He then pulled out his beloved phoenix feather wand and gave it a kiss before placing it in the box that the burly man held out. The man turned to the wiry one behind him, nodding as he closed the lid. The seams glowed as they sealed shut. Making it seem as if it hadn't had an opening to begin with. He then turned to the left towards the other faceless guard. Spying the waddling official coming down the stairs behind the bodyguard, his mouth turned up into a sneer, somewhat reminiscent of a certain professor. The man's waddling bringing back memories of the Dursleys.

As the man approached him, he gave his best smile and said,

"Come now dear sir, don't be shy." Dragging the vowel with a hiss, his head cocked slightly to the side.

The man fumbled with his tubby fingers as he straightened his sweat soaked robes.

"Y-yes, yes o-of course Mr Potter. N-now where w-would you like to g-go?" Flicking the dust off of his lapel and clearing his throat, he bound his hands behind his back before saying,

"We will be needing the services of a Floo system. Might you have one on hand?"

"Certainly." As the rest of the court cleared the room, the councilman led them to a small fireplace with a grate at the front. With a flick of his wand the man opened the grate and looked to Mr Potter for further instruction. He spotted a desk with an inkwell, quill and parchment and proceeded to write.

"I will be writing the address of my designated destination on this piece of parchment, you will swear not to repeat this address to anyone else on threat of death. You must also swear with your magic as well." Mr Potter turned and ripped the parchment in half, giving one piece to the councillor and the other to the hulk of a man. Nodding towards Mr Potter, the pair each read their parchment before throwing it into the fire.

The black haired man grabbed a handful of Floo powder and stepped into the fireplace.

"Number 12, Grimmauld Place, Islington, London." He threw down the powder and in a flash of light, Mr Potter disappeared.

Following suit, the bodyguard went first, followed by the councillor. But when they arrived, all they saw was a pair of bright green eyes followed by the words,

"Welcome gentlemen. Goodnight!"

Within a flash, the two men knew no more.


	2. The Game Maker

Chapter 2- The Game Maker

Harry jumped through the Floo network. He rushed out of the fireplace and yelled,

"Kreacher! Hurry!" Instantly the elf popped into view on the fireside table.

"I want you to get me my wand from the study right now and come back. At my signal, stun anyone who comes through the Floo. Understand?"

The young man quickly ordered his elf as he nodded dutifully cracking in and out of existence returning with the Phoenix wand, grabbing it; he slid it up his sleeve. Hurrying, Harry grabbed a pinch of black powder and turned around just as the fire flared, just as the fire settled he threw the black powder onto the floor.

Giving a wicked smile, he cocked his head to the side.

"Hello gentlemen. Goodnight!" Just as he waved to Kreacher, the elf sent a bolt of stunning elf magic to the government duo. They both slumped to the ground in a limbless heap. Waving his hand, the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder cleared, filling the room with light once again. Righting his robes, Harry indifferently stared down at the two unconscious individuals.

"Idiots" he scoffed. The elf standing next to him scoffed in the same manner and looked up at his master awaiting his next order.

Casually, Harry left the two men on the floor and walked out the lounge room door and down the stairs.

"Bring them up to the attic will you Kreacher? Keep them bound to chairs and confiscate their wands. Let's see how they like it. I'm going to make sure the last of the plans are ready to go. Tell me when they wake and let me know alright?!" The young man yelled from the first floor of the stairs.

"Yes Master!" the elf yelled in reply.

The black haired man smiled as he headed to his bedroom, opening his door he eyed the items laying casually on his bed.

There sat the Elder Wand, Resurrection Stone and his Invisibility Cloak.

The Deadly Hallows.

The Master of Death.

Harry pursed his lips and furrowed his brows. No matter what he tried, he still couldn't get rid of them. Even after transfiguring the Elder Wand into his own wand and sealing it with one of the strongest goblin-made sealing boxes, it still wasn't enough. Nevertheless, it came in handy for escapes and nefarious plans. Especially the one he was about to enact.

It was the most daring and dangerous plan he would have to go through with. Harry James Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World, was going to **fake** his own **death**.

He had consulted an expert in London about faking his death. Although he was a muggle, his methods were extremely impressive, but required the usage of a network, and that was what he had been working on for the past five years.

When he was young, before the years of Hogwarts, he had heard of magicians, people who performed in a circus and did feats of impossibility through the sleight of hand. They used misdirection to fool their audiences into thinking what the magician wanted to see, it was the same technique that the muggle detective had utilised and had effectively fooled everyone he knew. But it was not without the help of others.

It had taken quite a lot of whittling to get the man to admit it, although, his partner had readily said it in his place. In payment he had left an elephant in the room after he had left, in return for the man's correct, albeit invasive observations.

Smirking at the memory, Harry sat down next to the items. Taking the invisibility cloak in hand, he caressed the flowing fabric, reminiscing the days of running through the halls of Hogwarts, sneaking into rooms and escaping teachers.

A crack resonated throughout the room as Kreacher apparated onto the bed.

"Master, the two coward men are beginning to awake. The fat one has given Kreacher some trouble though." The house elf mumbled a few choice words under his breath as his master looked in confusion.

"What did he do Kreacher?" Harry inquired.

The leathery elf crossed his thin arms across his chest and thrust it out, Regulus' locket bouncing in the process.

"The fat one has wet himself, he's yelling for his wand, he is, cowardly man is afraid of the dark. The other one is trying to get out of Kreacher's bonds." The elf chuckled cheekily, "No-one can get out of Kreacher's clutches, and not even the strongest of wizards can. Oh no, oh no they can't!" He cackled once again in glee.

Harry sighed at the sadistic attitude of the Black family elf, making the assumption that one had to be mad to deal with the immense amount of crazy inbreeding of the old Pureblood families.

"Thank-you Kreacher, I'll see you up there. Make me a cup of tea and set it on a table in front of them will you? A chair would also be nice. Thanks." He gave a small smile as the elf bowed, cracking out if existence.

Harry stood up from his bed and breathed a steeling breath. Wiping his face of expression, he exited his room and closed the door behind him before climbing up the stairs to the attic. Harry opened the weathered door, seeing the cup of tea and jammy dodgers on the table, he smiled. Kreacher knew exactly what he liked. Harry settled into his seat and took a sip of his tea, moaning at the well brewed taste. He set the teacup down and took a bite of one of the biscuits.

"Mmmm… delicious. He always knows what I like best." He looked toward his two victims, holding his biscuit he offered,

"Want one?"

Both of them were vigorously shaking their heads.

"No? More for me then." Taking another bite, he savoured the biscuit before putting it back down on the saucer.

Leaning back into his chair, he crossed his legs and weaved his fingers together. Harry gave an exaggerated smile and then glared at the two men.

"Boys. I want to play a game."

The two men shivered at the Master of Death.

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**Author's Note:**

**Hi everyone! Thankyou for your great response to the first chapter! I am so flattered! I hope you keep reading. Also, this story will stay as a friendship and will not become a slash. Just to make it clear as people have already asked. Thanks for your support!**

**I Am Blind Justice **


	3. I Want To Play A Game

**PLEASE READ IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE BELOW**

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Chapter 3- I Want to Play a Game

"Boys, I want to play a game."

The wizard glared down at his victims, assessing them. Every twitch, every shiver, every whimper that they made.

"This game is called Simon Says. Well in this case it's Harry Says, but nevertheless the premise is still the same. I tell you to do something and you have to do it. If you don't." Harry's face split into a Cheshire grin.

"I'm going to have to kill you. Understand M-Mr C-Councilman?" Mocking the soiled man.

Harry put his finger to his lip in thought. His eyes looking innocent and thoughtful. The fat man's eyes followed wearily, his quivering form

"Actually, you know what? I don't need the bodyguard. He's pretty useless to me." He flicked his wand up from his sleeve and flashed it to the rotund man. He then threw a stunner at the bulk of a man with his loose hand. The other man screamed into his spit soaked muzzle, thrashing and whimpering at the sight of his interrogator.

Fed up with the politician's annoyances, Harry sighed in exasperation. Flicking his hand once again, the man's body went still in is chair.

"Please do stop doing that. As much as I like to see you squirm, pathetic snivelling annoys me to no extent." He rolled his eyes and took another sip of his cuppa.

"What was I saying?" Pausing for a moment, the young man furrowed his brows.

"Ah yes! The brilliance of a wand!" He twirled his beloved wand around, twisting it through and around his fingers. He gave a wide smile as he relished the feeling of the familiar holly wood in his hands.

"Did you know councilman? That when one has the Trace on them; any surrounding magic is classified as their own. Happened when I was visited by a house elf. I got a rather nasty letter from the Ministry because of that. But when you have a house elf, people disregard those things. They dismiss them as magic from the elf. But that's changed now hasn't it?" He slid his hands onto the desk as he stood up.

Harry walked around the table and brought his hands behind his back as he slowly padded towards the politician. Each step was more damning than the rest. He stopped over the man, standing directly above him, his lip pulled up into a sneer. Death's master was cloaked in shadow and malice, his face obscured in the dark.

"It's changed since the war hasn't it? The Taboo was definitely a big one." The sarcasm soaked his tongue.

"Just a word and suddenly anyone and everyone could be caught and killed." Harry closed his eyes as memories of the screams in Malfoy Manor flashed in his mind. Returning from his reminiscing, his voice gradually grew at each word.

"What's to say that couldn't happen to the Trace? If the Trace became like the Taboo, the only ones who would have known about the spell would be Death Eaters. Isn't that right councilman!?" Harry slammed both his hands down on the arms of the chair. His face was twisted in anger and rage. The man's eyes glowed and pulsed with power as they dug into his victim's soul.

The fat man went silent. His eyes widened at the revelation. With another flick of his hand Harry untied the gag.

Harry gave the man a soft smile and gently swiped the sweat soaked hair from his brow.

"You can tell me you know? **Tell me**." The predator glared into his prey's eyes.

"Tell me why you ordered the trial."

"Why do **you** want me dead?"

The man's lips parted in shock, his brows folded in confusion at the accusation. Harry stood up from his crouched position over the culprit and casually walked back to his desk, sitting down at his chair; he took another sip of his tea and bit his biscuit looking to the man with a raised brow.

"I do admit, your charade was quite good. Very good acting I must say, the nervous act and 'absolute' terror were pretty good. For a second almost had me there. But you have to be a little bit better than that. I learnt from the best after all." Harry relaxed into his chair, arms sprawled out over his stomach, waiting for an explanation.

The man's form stopped quivering as the terror melted from his face, transforming into a haughty look. Although he couldn't move, his face told all. Harry released the man's binds on his speech, giving him free reign.

The obtuse man wheezed as he started to chuckle.

His chuckling turning into full-blown maniacal laughter as he threw his head back, the laughter shaking his massive frame.

"You're good! Ha, ha, ha! You're really good Potter! Everyone thought you'd be an idiot! Ha!" The man's laughter died down as he heaved in large breaths to speak.

"Glad to be of service." Said Harry in a dry tone.

"After your accident, everyone thought you holed yourself up nice and tight. A silly little boy hiding behind his door. The great Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World and the Chosen One was just a scared Hogwarts dropout. No friends. No family, of course, and not a thing was heard out of you since we started the trial." The unmasked man's grin split his lips, his eyes wide with craziness.

"So we thought to ourselves, hang on, now's the perfect time. We've been waiting to get back at you Mr. Potter. What better time than now? When you've buried your head in the sand. But is seems that you've been up to some new things after all." The psycho crooned and licked his chapped lips.

Harry tensed and his jaw clenched at the mention of the accident. Seeing his reaction, the madman's grin grew wider, satisfied from his reaction.

Composing himself, Harry breathed in and out, calming his frazzled nerves.

"How do you know? You mentioned 'we'. Who is 'we'? How much do you know? Why do you want me dead?" The stressed tone in his voice echoed around the darkened room. The power slipped through his fingers like sand.

The councilman chuckled again.

"We don't want you dead Mr. Potter. Oh no, we want to know how." The man leered, his greedy eyes fixed on his interrogator.

"We want to know how you raised all those dead."

"We want to know why you killed them all over again."

"All the people you failed in the war."

"All of our victims."

The fat form began bubbling and shrinking as every feature changed and morphed into a new one. A pockmarked face emerged. His hair was black spotted with grey as his jaw grey more defined and posture stooped. Yellowed teeth shone through cracked lips. But lastly, Harry stared at the mark on his arm.

The skull and snake.

The Dark Mark.

"Oh shit."

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**A.N: **

**Hi everyone! **

**Sorry, no this isn't an update. But there is something that I'd like to address. A guest review posted that they don't want an AU Harry Potter fanfic, which they think this is. I may not have made things clear for you guys so: I will be posting a timeline to clear things up. This will become a crossover, but not at this point in time. After all, I'm only into my third chapter and I have a plan for when the integration actually happens. There just has to be some plot and background information first before I continue.**

**Thank-you for all of your support guys! You have all made my entire millenia!**

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**Late 1998-Second Wizarding War Ends **

**Early 1999-Harry's Accident**

**Mid 2003-The Trial + Fake Death**

**Mid 2003-2007- Travelling**

**Mid 2007- Meets Bruce in Brazil (I know he doesn't go to Brazil straight away, but I'm just fitting it to develop dynamic)**

**Early 2011-Hulk Movie Events**

**2012-Avengers**


	4. The Gears of the Game

Chapter 4- The Gears of the Game

The sound of heavy boots on the iridescent path echoed throughout the golden dome as they steadily paced to the end of the bridge. The old warrior stopped next to the all-seeing guard and looked out to the galaxies below.

Odin turned to Heimdall with an inquisitive look adorning his face.

"What is it my friend, that gives you need to summon me at this late hour?" The king's solid timbre rang out.

The guard, ever resolute narrowed his eyes as he peered into the swirling mass of light and dark.

"Events stir upon Midgard my king. It is strange." The guardian frowned in confusion. The Aesir beside him hummed in acceptance.

"Death has chosen a champion, a pawn in his game. I fear that we will be called to aid the realms once again." Heimdall turned to the king and looked him square in the eye.

The Allfather met his gaze, his lips set in a hard line and his face set in caution.

"Are they a threat to Asgard?" The old king inquired to his guard.

"Not at this moment my sire. My sight fails to see the champion's path, although there is one thing that I must say." The Asgardian paused, carefully considering his next words.

"He will either be the end of the beginning or the beginning of the end. It is his choices that will determine the fate of Midgard, and perhaps even Asgard." The weathered king nodded to the golden armoured man returning him to his post.

Odin turned on his heel and paced out of the concentric hall silently pondering the information from his watcher. Busy from reflecting the message, Odin did not see the lurking shadow with a grin on its face. Green robes swirled as they teleported back to the palace.

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**PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTES ON THE PREVIOUS PAGE AND THIS ONE AT THE END **(Sorry for the interruption)

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"Oh shit."

Harry tightly grasped his wand and pointed it to the Death Eater. Quickly thinking, Harry yelled,

"Kreacher! Stun! Now!" The house elf flashed into the room and stunned the grinning Death Eater. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and relaxed into his seat, his mouth gaped open as he began to snore. Harry sighed and gripped the back of his chair. He breathed out a shuddery breath and gripped his head in his hands which tightened on his jet hair.

"H-how do they know? T-they can't fucking know. It's impossible!" His voice fell and rose as he rambled, his hands shook as images of rotting flesh flashed in front of his eyes.

"Dammit!" He grabbed the edge of the table and threw it to the side, flinging the tea and glasses off to the side, crashing into the attic wall.

"Raaagggghhhhhh!" The magician fell to his knees and pounded the wooden boards, shaking the room as he released his anger.

Bracing himself on his hands he took deep breaths. The man puffed and slowly released each breath, calming his temper and steeling himself once again.

"Breathe. _Breathe_. Remember what John said. Just **breathe**." Harry mumbled his mantra and rocked back and forth, his eyes staring sightlessly at the ground below.

When he had finally calmed he looked up to be faced with the sight if his worrying house elf waiting patiently for his master. The elf reached up and placed his hand on his master's shoulder, offering him a sympathetic nod. Grasping his elf's hand, he clenched it as old thin bones creaked beneath his fingertips. Taking a last steeling breath, Harry slowly got to his feet, bracing his hands on his knees.

"Master?" The short elf looked to his master once again, ready for his next order.

Harry slowly opened his eyes and glared at the bound Death Eater. The young man looked to his elf and nodded. Understanding his master, the elf clicked his fingers turning his master's form into the former Dark Lord's. Gone were the black hair and tanned features; being replaced with pallid tone and noseless face.

"Set the mood Kreacher." Ordered the master. Clicking once again the room began to fill with mist. The white mist curled around and over the two captives, swirling and snaking through hair and sleeves. Raising the fallen guard onto the chair the mist twisted and writhed faster, brushing in, over and around the two.

A light sound emanated from the mist, it was almost as if there were a thousand and one voices, mumbling and humming in soft tones and relaxing voices. It was ethereal almost as if a deity had sent down blessings of contentment and comfort.

"You will both listen to my voice." The mist echoed Harry as he began to circle the pair, stepping silently along the weathered board.

"My voice is the only thing you will listen to." The mumbling and humming continued.

"Just relax. Let all your worries melt away." The smooth voice rolled over their ears. Their bodies relaxed further into their chairs, both were clearly entrapped in the trance.

"You can tell me all the things in the world. No-one will hear. Only you and me." The voices hissed and whispered in their minds.

The faux Voldemort stepped in front of the sleeping Death Eater.

"Now open your eyes. Listen to your master." The man's eyes flickered open. They were glazed and clouded almost as if he were in a dream.

"Yes my Master." He answered in a monotone voice.

"What is your name?" asked the disguised Potter.

"Augustus Rookwood, my Master." The man gave a small head bow in respect.

"Now Rookwood. Tell me what you plan to do with Harry Potter." The piercing red eyes bore into the cloudy black.

"We're going to get revenge Master. Revenge for you. We waited Master. We watched. We listened. We found his weakness!" The man's eyes brightened in his revelation.

"Good work Rookwood. Now tell me. Tell me how you found out. Show me your work." Ordered the master.

"We remained faithful Master. We stuck to the shadows we infiltrated the ministry in disguise. We talked to the families. Made friends with them. Then they showed us those ones. He tried to keep it hush, hush he did. But we got him!" The man giggled in delight.

"Very good Rookwood. You have satisfied your master. Tell me; who else is avenging my name? Where are they?" The mist and voice intertwined to croon to the Death Eater's ear.

"We are everywhere Master. In the Ministry. In their lives. In their homes. We are but few, but we still serve you faithfully Master." He smiled a crooked smile and giggled once again.

Harry's jaw tensed; a million and one thoughts ran through his head, the frustration built in his mind as plans began to formulate.

Breathing in once again, he cleared his thoughts to resume his hypnosis.

"Very good, very good. I have a job for you Rookwood. I need you to kill Harry Potter. Once you exit his house, I want you to attack him. You will not remember any of this. You will not remember being stunned or interrogated. The only thing that you will remember, is the sight of Potter offering a biscuit. Is that clear?" The swirling mists whispered to him.

"Yes my Master." The man nodded.

"Good now, sleep." The perpetrator's head lolled to the side.

Standing up, Harry changed back to his normal form and faced the guard.

"You, what is your name?" Harry sighed again, frustrated with the current events.

"John Smith." He answered in a droll tone.

"Now John, can you do me a favour? Just forget everything you've heard or seen since you came here. You will follow me outside and be the witness to my death. You will disarm Rookwood and apprehend him afterwards. All you will remember is a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits."

"Yeah, sure" His eyes were glazed as he nodded, his face painted with a lazy smile.

Harry backed away from the pair and nodded to Kreacher. Clicking again, the mist dissipated into nothingness, almost as if it were never there. Harry unbound the two men and righted each of them banishing the rope and wrecked table.

"Follow me."

Harry turned to the door and led the two men down the stairs and in front of his room.

"Stay here."

He entered his room and looked down at the items once again Kreacher followed him into the room and waited next to the bed. Gathering the items, and picking them off of the bed, Harry knelt down to Kreacher. Harry looked into his elf's eyes and smiled. He handed the items to Kreacher and clasped his spindly hands around them.

"Look after them for me Kreacher. When I die, I want you to place them in my coffin." He looked sincerely into his servant's eyes and nodded.

"Can I trust you?" A silence fell between them. It was a camaraderie that was unspoken. It was the return of a promise for a life that was avenged and for a master that was loved. They knew. They both knew their roles and how they each owed each other. They knew what had to be done.

"Always Master. Always." The elderly elf nodded and clasped his hands tightly around the sacred items. He shook his master's hand and gave a small salute before cracking out of existence.

Harry stood up and faced his door. He opened it inward and faced the trance induced men. Beckoning to both he climbed down the stairs and to the hallway. As he faced the door he flicked open Mrs. Black's portrait. Instantly, loud screeching filled the room.

"MUDBLOODS! BLOOD-TRAITORS! A SACRILEGE TO THE BLACK NAME!..." Harry winced the sound and reached for the door handle. He took a deep breath and turned the knob, opening the door to his death.

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**A.N: Hi! 'Ducks head in embarrassment' **

**Yes, I know I haven't updated in a bit. I'm really sorry, I just finished a week of exams and I may have written myself into a plothole and wasn't just feeling the flow of the story. Sorry this was a bit of a filler, but at least there was some interaction from Asgard, right? I'm really sorry guys and hope you haven't gathered your weapons to come and kill me.**

**I will be updating by Saturday though. Pinky Promise.**

**Apologies,**

**I Am Blind Justice**


	5. A Game of Death

Chapter 5- A Game of Death

He took a deep breath and turned the knob, opening the door to his death.

Harry flicked his wand out from his sleeve and began running. His footfalls pounded against the asphalt as he ran frantically down the street.

"POTTER!" An anger filled screech was heard from behind him. The footpath next to him exploded into dust and debris. Harry dodged and ducked as he avoided the oncoming shrapnel.

"Fuck!" Potter swore as he too, turned and sent a volley of curses and jinxes towards his enemy. He panted as his legs pumped as hard as they could, propelling him further down the road.

Loud crashes and screams of the surrounding public resonated throughout the entire street. It was chaos. Rookwood proceeded to chase after the black haired magician.

"Run, run, run, little Potter! I'm gonna get ya!" The Death Eater cackled once again as he threw haphazard curses and spells at anything and everything in his sight. Cars flipped over and windows exploded as the malevolent magic escaped from the man's wand.

Seeing a group of scared muggles his eyes lit up. He began to run towards the young family, killing the parents before viciously grabbing the collars of two little girls.

Harry kept running until he heard more screams. He twisted around, his body poised and wand ready to send as many spells as possible. Although, what he saw made his body freeze.

In Rookwood's hands, were two helpless children screaming and thrashing as they attempted to escape from their captor's vice grip. He had the two girls in one hand; the other was pointing and prodding his wand at them.

"How 'bout it Potter?! Gryffindor Potter! Saviour of the Wizarding World!" The madman let out a maniacal laugh, mocking the compromised protagonist.

Harry tightened his hold on his wand and began to slowly step towards the centre of the scene across the road.

"Give them up! They have nothing to do with this. They're just children. Let. Them. Go." The magician attempted to negotiate with the criminal, sweat formed on his brow as he attempted to get closer. His voice was tight with anxiety as he kept his eyes on the wand and the hostages.

The Death Eater sneered.

"They have nothing to do with this?! They are the reason we run and hide like scared rats in the drains! It was the Dark Lord's dream to bring our world to light! To defeat these powerless, worthless muggles into their place! It was you that destroyed Our Lord! So don't tell me they have nothing to do with this." He snarled jabbed his wand into one of the girl's cheeks making her squeal and panic even more.

"Stop it!" Harry yelled. His hands shook as he looked into the crazed man's eyes.

"It's going to be your fault again Potter. Your fault that these little kiddies die today! AVADA KE-" He began.

"STOP!" Harry's voice quivered as he begged the criminal to end his curse. Silence filled the mangled street as the young man panicked; his voice was filled with fear.

"Please! I beg of you! Please don't! Take me." He threw his wand to the side and fell to his knees, placing his hands above his head.

"Take me instead. Just don't kill them!" The lightning scarred boy surrendered, still watching every move and twitch that the Death Eater made. The criminal's face cracked open once again into an unstable smile as he chuckled in glee at the simplicity of the surrender.

"Silly little boy! Silly little Harry! Ready to die Potter?" He taunted as he released the collars of the little girls, stalking towards his newer prey.

Harry's eyes followed the little girls as they crawled back to their fallen parents, only for his vision to be blocked by a mangy figure.

The young victim looked up at his soon-to-be murderer, staring from down the shaft of his wand, to the eye bagged face and glee filled maw. The scene seemed far too familiar; an evil megalomaniac pointing their wand at his face ready to kill him. His last words echoed in his head, _I am about to die_.

Suddenly a hand shot out and grabbed his hair; sharp nails grazed his scalp as he was roughly pulled to his knees. Giving a small grunt Harry stumbled up and into Rookwood's face; coming into contact with his fetid breath.

The villain giggled once again, "I've got you now Potty! So foolish, giving your life for those little muggle bitches. Naughty, naughty." He chastised, clicking his tongue in feigned disappointment.

The hot breath lingered in his ear as the man pressed his wand against his cheek.

"So what will it be Potter? Any last words before I avenge my Master?" The Death Eater's hand tightened further on his hair, his nails digging into the scalp, drawing blood. Harry hissed and snarled at his captor.

Harry smirked, "Vatican Cameos."

"Your Master wants you to do what he has asked." In a brief moment the man's eyes flashed in recognition at his orders.

The man's eyes then returned to their original state as Harry whispered his trigger word once again. Adopting a fearful look on his face once more, Harry gazed pleadingly to his pawn.

"Such a coward Potter." He smirked and leaned forward until his nose touched Harry's cheek, his tongue slid out from his mouth and took a long sensuous lick.

"A taste of what's to come." He leered. Easing his force on his wand on Harry's cheek, Rookwood cocked his head to the side and gave a cheery smile.

In a glee filled voice; he cursed,

"Avada Kedavra!"

There was a flash of green and a body hit the floor.

A pair of cracked glasses clattered down onto the asphalt, lying down without an owner.


	6. The Moves of the Game

Chapter 6- Moves of the Game

The graveyard was a sombre affair, despite the turnout. The winter breeze chilled bones as it swept through the melancholy crowd as they surrounded the freshly turned earth and the marble headstone.

"We have all gathered here today to commemorate the unfortunate passing of one of the heroes of our lifetime." The priest coughed into the hem of his sleeve before returning to his eulogy.

"Today we celebrate the life of a boy. It is the story of a boy turned into a man, and how that made brought our world from the darkness into an era of peace."

The thousands gathered at the hidden cemetery of Godric's Hollow. Men, women and children stood in the small cemetery hidden and inaudible to the sight of the mundane. Many were in different states of despair and loss for their hero. The crowd were dressed in the many shades of black and grey, the sombre tone heavy on all present. Although the multitudes had gathered, only few of those who were close to him actually arrived.

"He was the first and only known wizard to survive the killing curse earning the title "The Boy Who Lived". This boy fought for all of lives, so that we may all live in a world that we would not fear. Fear from being persecuted from our blood or by the way that we love another." The priest paused; his head downcast as he too, restrained tears of sorrow.

Taking a deep breath, the priest looked back up to the crowd before turning to the only person dressed in the brightest yellow gown. Her hair strung up into a high twist, restrained by holly twigs and woodland berries. The priest nodded to her as she gave a small smile, standing from her seated position next to the grave.

Luna Lovegood sighed. She had lost another one of her friends. Another one of her precious people; and although she knew that Death came for everybody, grief, was something much harder to overcome.

Casting a _Sonorus_ onto herself, the fae-voiced woman began to speak.

"I once heard a man say that "everything is on its way to somewhere". We may not know where that somewhere is or when it'll come for us, but all we know is the certainty of death. We may not like it, and we try to prolong it, but some adventures are just best left to the stars and the night."

The glimmering eyes of the crowd focused on the woman and her words, seemingly useless and utterly mad, but they knew her message.

With a breath of finality, a shot of sparks was sent up into the night sky, illuminating the morbid air with the spark of light.

As the crowd began to dissipate, a little boy with grey coloured hair approached the newly turned soil accompanied by a decrepit elf. The little boy turned to the elf, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Hawwy?" The elf turned towards the toddler,

"Later…" A smirk blossomed on the leathery face,

"Much, much later…"


End file.
